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On Being 67



Yesterday was my sixty-seventh birthday. I got a free B-52 at the Ixtapa in Sultan; plus, I had two shots of Oban single malt Scotch. As birthdays go, it was tolerable.


For all that happened yesterday, I’m bored with life; due to changes in my meds I’ve gained over 30 lbs. in the past year; my cataracts are worsening to the point where I get a new prescription every six months; I've got skin cancer on my ear; I can’t drive more than a couple miles to the grocery store and definitely not out on the highway at highway speeds because being bipolar makes me too inattentive to keep track of what I’m doing; and, more importantly, it’s harder to write.


I think I just don’t give a shit anymore. Somethings just aren't all that important.

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Happy belated birthday!

Weight gained can be lost. Cataract surgeries are pretty simple, short & effective. Skin cancer is a scare but treatments are available. No Driving is a drag, true... but there are ways to get groceries delivered at the door step. You will write when you feel the urge to. And things are never important if you intend to give up.

Don't give up. There are still much of life unexplored and both happy and sad experiences will come your way.

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